


Today's Special: Torture

by NervousAsexual



Series: Whumptober 2020 [31]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Abuse, Broken Bones, Drug Use, Electrocution, Eye Trauma, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sadism, Trauma, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: Beating the everloving shit out of Gage is just another of Colter's hobbies.
Relationships: Overboss Colter & Porter Gage
Series: Whumptober 2020 [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960987
Kudos: 9
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Today's Special: Torture

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober prompt #31--torture/left for dead
> 
> So this is based on/inspired by a work that has been since deleted, which makes me feel like socially awkward penguin. Sorry, deleted work authors? Also [this post here.](https://headcanonsforcompanions.tumblr.com/post/184736558033/colter-beat-the-everloving-shit-out-of-gage-before)
> 
> Also also please mind the tags because holy shit did this get away from me.

Sometimes Gage gets real pissed at Colter, real fucking pissed, and then he gets shitfaced and then he thinks about how much he wants to look Colter in the eye and ask him why he can't get it up without that fucking power armor. He doesn't ask, because he's not fucking suicidal, but he does want to know.

Right now he especially doesn't say a goddamn thing, because Colter's standing so close behind him he can feel the electricity pulsing out of the armor. It makes every hair on his body stand on end and the edges of his eye patch are zapping the scar tissue underneath it. He downs the last of the Dirty Wastelander--his third of the hour and spiked with Med-X; he hates alcohol and he hates chems but if he ain't absolutely plowed this is gonna go south fast--and throws the bottle as far as he can toward the arena locker room.

"Porter," Colter says. Times like this is the only time he'll use Gage's first name, and every time he does Gage kicks himself for ever telling him what it is. The cold steel of the power armor glove closes around the back of his neck and turns him. "Look at me."

He does. If he don't Colter'll make him, and with the strength of the power armor behind him he could snap Gage's neck like a twig. He looks up at the overboss, looks into the shadows around his helmet like he's gonna make eye contact. Limp-dick motherfucker, he thinks, but he ain't drunk enough to say shit. He don't say a goddamn thing as Colter's thumb slips down to the front of his throat and presses hard. He don't move because that's what Colter wants, might as well get a little of his own back when he's just gonna end up givin' him what he wants in the end, just stands there and watches the place where Colter's eyes probably are as the grip tightens and the hand lifts him up until he's barely touching the floor with just the tips of his toes. The pressure on his throat makes it hard to swallow, then hard to breathe, then hard to focus. He still doesn't do nothing. Now Colter's other hand comes up, wraps around his throat, and he slams Gage back against the rusty metal of the soda bottle decoration. He pulls in a breath that's not much more than a snort, and without thinking he raises his hands to cling to Colter's arms. The electricity snaps through them but he hangs on, not a thought in his head but relieving a little of the pressure and dragging out some room to breathe. Colter's grip don't loosen. He holds even tighter, and Gage chokes and spits as the thumbs on his throat push in his windpipe.

Colter shoves a knee between Gage's thighs, pushing them open and the electricity arcs up into his crotch and for a moment Gage sees white. When he comes back out of it the thumping of the electricity hasn't slowed and his legs keep pressing together over Colter's and his hands keep holding onto the armor.

"Who does this shit belong to?" Colter demands.

"You." It's the answer Colter's always looking for.

"Who's the fucking overboss?"

"You."

"What's my fucking name?"

"Colter, christ!" His hands are fucking numb, can't hold on much longer, has to brace himself against the thigh of Colter's armor and just like every other time he takes the electricity to his taint his dick starts twitching like he ain't so drunk after all.

Colter lets go and his full weight goes on that thigh for a godawful blinding moment before Colter finally lets him fall to the floor.

"Shit, jesus, fuck," he hisses. His balls are tight and his ass spasms and then Colter's boot hits his chest so hard it's like getting hit by the fucking train. It knocks all the air out of his entire body and sets him spinning.

"Lemme see what kind of bullshit you got into this time."

It's like his lungs are twisted inside out and he ain't ever going to get them back the way they're supposed to be. Colter steps down on his chest and his fingers close around the edge of Gage's undershirt and tear. The electricity zaps right through the thin fabric and into the soft flesh under his arm and Colter rips right through so that his side's open to the air and anybody who looks can see where Nisha had him fucking filleted, just a bright red scar from hip to underarm to let him know they're all fucking watching and if Colter doesn't get his ass into gear it's gonna get a hell of a lot worse than this.

Colter touches the scar and the power armor zaps him there and Gage hears himself moan as the tender scabbing flesh contracts. Feels like his eyes are going to fucking pop out of his head. Colter would fucking like that. Would probably have jacked off to it 'cause the one thing that seemed to get his dick hard was watching Gage fight for his fucking life and he'd like what happened, wouldn't he, he'd like that they crammed one of those fucking rubber aliens in his mouth and held it in place with a rag wrapped around his head, he'd just love how even though everybody in that fucking place knew it was worthless Gage kept kicking and fighting while they held him down and Dixie sliced him open...

Now Colter drags him up by the arm and gives him a sling so he slams into the wall. Doesn't hurt as much as it would if he were sober but it's more than fucking enough, ain't it, sends vibrations through every cracked rib and rotten tooth in him and when his knees go out under him Colter just swings a fist straight into his gut so hard something pops. He opens his mouth, wanting to try and drag in a breath, and instead there's a rush inside him and he pukes that last Dirty Wastelander over himself and Colter and he's drowning in his own sick.

"You piece of shit!" Colter slams him back into the wall and does it again and again and then throws him down into the garbage and sick on the floor. All he can think about is trying to get air in him again. Colter storms out of sight and he don't even look to see what's happening so when Colter comes back with that fucking squirt gun he's trying to breathe and Colter forcing it down his goddamn throat and squeezing the trigger just about drowns him. But that ain't the worst of it, 'course not, the worst is the water that sprays out his mouth and the electricity arcing off the armor through the water and down his throat and he's sure he's gonna die, gonna burn up from the inside out, then suddenly he's upright, he don't know how he got that way but Colter's forearm is right under his ribs and the electric's shaking him.

"Shit," he manages to get out, "shit, fuck, fuck, shi--" and then Colter lets him drop. He falls to his hands and knees, can't support himself, sprawls on the floor. His whole body is twitching like electricity's still running through it. "G-god..."

"You're fucking cleaning this up." Colter aims a kick at his ribs but hits his arm instead. "You hear me? You're gonna wash every goddamn inch."

Gage lays there with his head in two hundred years' worth of trash and grime and wishes he never heard of this stupid fucking park. When Colter jams his foot under his chest and flips him over on his back he gets a look at sparks arcing off the foot before it slams back into his chest and crushes the air out of him. As much as he tries he can't push him off and he catches a whiff of burning hair and maybe flesh, his hands on the power armor feel like they're burning. If he had a little air in his fucking lungs he would scream or beg 'cause he knows that's what Colter wants. But he don't, because he can't, and when he opens his mouth nothing comes out.

Colter stomps, and he stomps, and he stomps. All Gage can see is something blinding white that he's sure is going to kill him. "You keep--" _stomp_ "--your hands--" _stomp_ "--to yourself--" _stomp_ "--you piece--" _stomp_ "--of--" _stomp_ "--shit." _stomp_ There's a snap and the sound of bones grinding, every rib in his fucking body is broken, he ain't half stoned enough for this...

Colter pulls back just for a moment before driving his knee down hard into Gage's chest. Gage's jaw goes slack and christ, blood spatters out of his mouth and onto both of them.

"Don't forget this was your fucking idea," Colter shouts at him. Gage doesn't know or care what he's talking about. "You always do this shit. They shoulda killed you. I shoulda let them kill you!"

The fist of the power armor hits him in the side of the head. Something cracks. He don't know if it's his face or his neck. Doesn't make any difference. Colter tears off the eye patch and even with his eyes squeezed closed Gage knows what's coming, same thing that always comes, same thing that gets him every single time, same thing he'll beg Colter not to do like he's some weakass trader getting his first collar. Colter takes his head in both hands, rubs his thumbs around either eye, making the lid of his missing eye twitch and move on its own and Gage would beg if he could but he can't and Colter jams his thumbs into both eyes and without a breath in his lungs Gage screams and screams. Colter slams his head back into the floor over and over and over.

Something at the back of his skull gives way. His hands slip on the power armor and fall back, lying palms up as if he's surrendering which he is. He can't fight back, can't move, can't breathe, just lies there drowning in his own blood as Colter's hips grind against his chest.

How come he can't get it up without...

There's nothing he can do but wait until Colter shudders over him again and again. He can't even turn his face away.

"You're so fucking weak," Colter gasps. He leans forward, bracing one hand over Gage's shoulder. "Can't even fight off the fucking... nutjobs..."

Gage twitches but it's just the electricity.

"Guess you're not as smart as you thought, huh, Porter?"

Whatever he wants to bitch about, Gage just lets him do it. He puts everything he has into staying conscious despite the burning in his lungs. That's the only thing he can do.

"You're no better than the rest of 'em. You know that, right? You think you're better than everyone but you're just another piece of furniture. I fucking own you, Porter."

It's never going to end, he thinks.

"Who does this shit belong to?"

If he survives this...

"Me. It fucking belongs to me. Every last inch of it." He squeezes Gage's side over the knife wound and Gage's eyesight blurs. Finally, finally, he feels the sharp stab of the stimpack entering his chest.

It's about fucking time, is his first thought. His second is just certainty that he's going to watch this fucker burn. He's out cold before he can summon a third.


End file.
